Judgement Day: Redemption
by Joeneauxvieve
Summary: As Frisk battles Sans in the Judgement Hall, they come to their senses and decide to spare him, but the demon that comes when their name is called is not pleased. Sans knows what he has to do to make everything right, but will he fulfill his friend's dying wish?


Here they were in the golden judgment hall. The endless amounts of light that poured in danced against the golden colorization of the pillars and walls, only making the room brighter. But the atmosphere and purpose of the battle was much darker. So dark, in fact, that the entire hall could have turned pitch black and neither of them would have probably noticed or cared.

Frisk was heaving heavily. Their chest was rising and falling with each breath, and the golden chain with the red heart-shaped pendant dangled towards the ground as they placed their hands on their knees to prevent themselves from falling due to exhaustion. Their palm was sweating as they held the knife stained with the blood of every monster they vanquished. The skeleton that stood across the room from them was breathing just as hard. He had just as much sweat on his face as Frisk did in blood. Sans held a dancing blue flame in his palm, and his left eye was a blazing blue that was emitting an aqua haze. He was full of rage, but Frisk remained conflicted. They didn't want to kill the skeleton, but they had an extremely strong urge to do it. Their wrist shook as they brought their knife up to their face, contemplating their next move. An evil grin sneakily crept onto their face. They shot a glare at Sans and flashed a beam of sunlight that reflected off of the long blade into one of his eye sockets, causing his vision to momentarily falter and forcing him to blink. When Sans refocused his sight, he realized they vanished.

Sans turned around in his place as he sensed their presence approaching behind him. Frisk lunged at him with all of their might. Unsurprisingly, Sans dodged it. Again.

 ** _Shit._**

Frisk became still in place. They couldn't budge until Sans made his next move. They braced themselves for anything that could be coming. Platforms, flying bones, getting thrown around in the air via telekinesis, even those damned skull blaster things! **(A.N. I know they're called Gaster Blasters, but I like to think that Frisk doesn't know that.)**

"I know you didn't answer me before, but," Sans started talking again between turns. Frisk had already lost count of how many times Sans had tried to talk to them during this fight, and it was annoying to the point of driving them to insanity.

 ** _Fuck, does this son of a bitch EVER shut up?_**

"... Somewhere in there. I can feel it. There's a glimmer of a good person inside of you. The memory of someone who once wanted to do the right thing. Someone who, in another time, might have even been... a friend?"

Sans paused briefly to test Frisk's reaction. Frisk stared at him furiously, still out of breath. They wanted him to stop talking. They wanted him to die. Yet, somehow, for some reason, they wanted to hear what he had to say. Almost every ounce of them was eager to drive the knife into him, to see the pathetic excuse for an opponent turn into a worthless pile of dust meant to be walked on without a second thought. However, a little bit of them held all of that back. The expression their bloodshot eyes gave screamed the urge to kill anything and everything that stood in its way, but Frisk remained silent, waiting for Sans to complete his stupid, dragged-out speech.

"C'mon, buddy. Do you remember me? Please, if you're listening, let's forget all of this, ok? Just lay down your weapon, and... well, my job will be a lot easier."

Frisk's eyes widened slightly when they heard these final words. After everything that just happened, that _had_ happened, Sans was sparing them just like that? It had to be too good to be true.

 _But when will an opportunity like this ever come up again?_

 ** _No! Don't listen to him! Don't give in!_**

 _But he's my friend! I can't-_

 ** _If he really is your friend, why has he killed you countless times? He's an enemy! Wipe him out!_**

 _I don't care! I have to listen to him!_

 ** _It's too late to turn back! Kill! Him! NOW!_**

 _No! Even the worst person can change for the better, just like he said!_

 ** _Since when were YOU the one in control?_**

 _Who do YOU think you are? What even are you?_

 ** _You'll learn soon enough._**

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

Frisk dropped the knife on the solid floor of the judgement hall. They strained against the undeniably strong urge to scream, punch something, and kill. Frisk grabbed their head and pulled their short brown hair as they fought the hidden second battle in their mind. Sans took notice of the eyes changing from mocha brown to dark red and back.

"Are you sparing me?"

Frisk immediately turned to face him. Their eyes were the same color brown that Sans recognized when he and Frisk first met in Snowdin. Frisk nodded in reply.

Sans gave Frisk a warm smile. "Finally. Buddy. Pal. I know how hard it must be... to make that choice. To go back on everything you've worked up to. I want you to know, I won't let it go to waste. C'mere, pal." He opened up his arms, waiting for Frisk to step forward to hug him.

Frisk reluctantly stepped towards the skeleton. The first few steps were very slow, but quickly gained speed as they got closer. Frisk stopped when they were one foot away from him. Sans made a faint 'oomph' sound when Frisk threw their arms around him in an incredibly swift motion, and wrapped their arms around Sans' rib cage tightly. Sans chuckled slightly and gently placed his arms around the shorter human, taking them into a forgiving embrace.

A few seconds felt like a much longer amount of time to the both of them, but Sans knew what had to be done. He knew what he had to do.

Frisk's sharp inhale followed a quiet whooshing noise coming from beneath them. They felt an excruciating burning sensation in their waist and chest. They had trouble breathing and they could feel a hot stream of blood pouring out of their mouth onto their pink and blue sweater.

* * *

Confusion immediately brewed into anger as their brown eyes turned red, and their sweater became a light green with a thick, horizontal, neon yellow stripe replacing the two thin pink ones. Frisk pushed Sans away from them and Frisk's friendly tone of voice lowered to an almost demonic pitch.

 **"NGHAAAAAA! What the hell have you done?!"**

"Just doing my job," Sans replied.

 **"YOU BASTARD! I WAS SO CLOSE! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I'VE WAITED!"**

"I think I have a pretty good idea," Sans said with some snarkiness in his voice. "But believe me, I don't regret anything I've done, especially to you."

 **"YOU'RE A MONSTER! YOU DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE!"**

Sans lowered his gaze, closed his eyes and shook his head as if he was disappointed. "It's ironic, isn't it?" he scoffed. "I may be a monster by definition," he opened his eyes to reveal his glowing eye, a soft blue on the top half and a dark yellow on the bottom half. "But the real monster here is you."

 **"NGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"** The demon threw their head back in agony. Sans raised his left hand, which was holding a large blue flame the same color as the haze coming from his left eye. Two skull-shaped blasters held a blazing ball of energy within its teeth, begging to be released.

As soon as the screaming stopped, there was a body almost drained of its life that rested on the long, slender bones that pierced through its entire torso. The breaths coming out of it were shallow, shaky and unsteady. They were trying their best to cling to the final strands of their life that remained. The sweater reverted back to its original pink-and-blue color scheme. It was now stained with two large scotches of blood where the bone punctured the flesh. The blood began to stream down the legs and onto the floor. They were absolutely defenseless.

Sans quickly clenched his fist, extinguishing the flame and dismissing the blasters. He ran over to them. Their eyes were glassy, almost lifeless. The locket that housed their soul was slowly floating upwards, indicating that Frisk was dying, and the soul was leaving the body.

"S-Sans..." they whispered as more blood droplets escaped their lips. "I'm s-sorry... for everything," Frisked gasped for air. Sans tried to fight back the tears that were forming. "I kn-know I c-can't make up for it... a-and I'm sorry... b-but," Frisk released a quiet cough and more blood tumbled out of their mouth, along with large tears streaming down their cheeks, "I w-want to ask y-you for a f-favor."

"Name it, kid," Sans said, fighting back the tears.

"T-Take my soul to A-Asgore. B-Break the barrier, and f-free whoever's l-left..."

"Ok," Sans finally responded after a painstakingly long pause, tears now flowing down his own face, "I promise."

Frisk, through all of the pain, blood and tears, somehow managed to smile. Only this time, it was genuine, and not a smile that would be seen on the face of a killer.

"But there's one thing I gotta know, kid," Sans started. "Why? Why did you do it? Why did you have to kill everyone?" The tears fell harder on his face.

The smile on Frisk slowly faded. "I.. it-it w-wasn't me..."

Sans' eyes widened at this sentence. He knew exactly what Frisk was talking about, but he didn't know how they knew.

The locket kept going higher. Frisk could feel their soul leaving their body. Sans opened his mouth to talk, but was interrupted.

"W-We are friends... in case you were s-still wondering," Frisk barely managed to chuckle. Their dialogue was so quiet, Sans could barely hear them. "A-And I'll prove it to you this t-time..." Sans' expression began to show horror, for he knew what Frisk was implying. "I'm not coming back." Tears streamed down their cheeks.

"I... I understand, kid," Sans finally managed to utter.

Frisk inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly. Their eyelids were clearly growing heavier and they were having trouble supporting their own head and their neck. "Thank you."

"W-What for?" Sans asked, caught off guard by this comment.

"For ending it all. The killing. The death. The nightmares... finally...it's over."

Frisk's eyes closed, and their body was completely relaxed, lifeless. The golden chain that held the locket was completely off of Frisk's head and neck. Sans held the soul of his friend in his hand, replaying their dying wish over and over again in his head.

* * *

 **A.N. Thank you for reading my interpretation of the after math of Frisk sparing Sans... I know it's not great, I was bored and wanted to take a try at an Undertale fan fiction. It's not my best work, but I enjoyed writing it, and that's all that matters!**

 **Nonetheless, I still hope you enjoyed my story! Feel free to leave a review! (This will NOT be a multi-chapter fan fiction, by the way)**


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